Living The Journey
by km bergstrom kl campbell
Summary: After the independent film The Journey exploded into a cultural phenomenon, Kathryn Sterling and Ryan Preston we're dubbed Hollywood royalty and followed everywhere they go by greedy paparazzi. The tabloid industry relies on celebrity photographers to capture every moment of a star's life. As Kat's and Ryan's romantic relationship heats up, follow along as they learn to live amid a
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Happy New Year

My hands felt clammy and slightly cold. I knew I wasn't getting sick, so it had to be nerves. I looked down at my gnawed fingernails and sighed. Yes, definitely nerves. Tucking my book of poems into the side pocket of my backpack, I slid the plastic curtain up and looked out the tiny airplane portal. It was hard to make out, but off in the distance a faint glimmer lit the densely dark sky—our destination. I still couldn't believe this was happening. If you had told me two months ago I'd be on a plane to London, I would have never believed you.

I gave the invitation to spend New Year's with Ryan absolutely no thought. I don't make spontaneous decisions. I mean . . . I go with my gut but generally my gut doesn't lead me across an ocean for a guy. But Ryan wasn't just some guy. We met almost a year ago, and I knew on that first day we had something. Everyone called it "chemistry." I guess that word fits, but really what we have is more complicated. It's like a magnetic pull we have for each other that is impossible to fight. Trust me, I've tried. He throws me off, yet centers me at the same time. I gave up trying to define our relationship to the countless friends, fans, and media that have clamored for an answer since we met. What I _can_ tell you is this: three weeks ago he and I were only friends, but now things have shifted.

Life for us is exciting, yet at times difficult to navigate. We rely on one another in ways most people can't understand. Last year we were cast in a low-budget movie called _The Journey,_ which we both thought was an independent film. Turns out we were wrong. The movie literally blew up overnight into a blockbuster, propelling Ryan and I into a full-fledged media blitz, the likes of which haven't been seen since the Beatles. Dealing with sudden fame and its pressures has been challenging. Although I'm confident, I'm often awkward and at times unable to handle the rush of attention thrust upon me. Yet through it all, I've done my best to maintain my sanity and integrity while staying true to who I am. And I've done all that with Ryan by my side.

"Excuse me, would you like a beverage? It's the last call," the flight attendant said, snapping me back to attention. "Yes, I would love a Coke. Thanks," I said with a pop of my knuckles. I loved Drew for thinking ahead and booking a first-class ticket. Los Angeles to London was a _long_ flight. I reclined my seat and shuffled through my iPod, trying to find something relaxing.

I'm nineteen, and since _The Journey _stuff exploded, flying intimidates me a little. I was pretty sure I made it through LAX unnoticed. The fans were great, but since our movie premiered, the paparazzi had become insanely ridiculous. The _stalkerazzi_ (my nickname for all scumbag photographers) have been hounding me since they caught Ryan and me together last summer. Sure we were outside of the infamous Chateau Marmont, but nothing was going on between us—at least nothing we were acting on. When I was seeing my ex-boyfriend Chris, their constant made-up stories and half-truths planted a seed of doubt in him that couldn't be mended. He wasn't able to handle my independence and the success of the movie, so we ended our three-year relationship a month ago. His jealousy and controlling ways tore us apart long before he cheated. That said, the paparazzi didn't make my transition into the limelight easy for either one of us.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen! Please fasten your seatbelts. We are beginning our descent." Hearing the announcement, my stomach lurched, and I could feel myself starting to sweat. I knew I didn't have anything to be nervous about. Ryan and I had spent a lot of time together, traveling the world and watching our lives change before our very eyes. We had become best friends and each other's rock. I just needed to stay calm and trust in Ryan that everything would be okay.

I secured my hoodie over my head, cranked my iPod, and locked my ear buds safely into my ears before exiting the plane at Heathrow Airport. The music was merely a precaution and distraction from the shouting photographers. I realized it would create the perfect escape from their howling voices and rude comments. I just prayed their attack ended at the airport, and they wouldn't find out where I was headed. Walking quickly, I exited through baggage claim. Ryan told me he would be meeting me himself, but I had no idea what to expect. I couldn't see him standing outside waiting, exposing us to massive paparazzi or media scrutiny.

Two seconds after I cleared the main doors, I saw him. His car was pulled to the curb, and he quickly rolled down the window and motioned me over. Clutching my duffle bag, I hustled over and climbed into the back of his SUV. Once I was securely inside and the door shut, he turned around from the passenger seat and greeted me with the biggest grin ever. He looked good, even with a completely full beard. His light brown hair was longer than before. Yet it still managed to not lay flat and sprouted in several directions. His blue eyes sparkled and creased the corners of his face. I met his smile with my own and reached out for his hand. He took it and squeezed lightly.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered.

"Me too," I grinned, relieved to admit it finally.

I pulled my hood off my head getting comfortable for the ride.

"Your hair is lighter."

I nodded yes and grinned, feeling pleased that he'd noticed I'd lightened my previously black "Anna" locks to a reddish brown—a color more my own. We held each other's gaze with what felt like an unspoken moment of promise. Then the "ahem" of a throat clearing made me realize someone else was with us.

"Kat, you remember Lisa, my sister?"

"Of course. It's great to see you again. Thanks for picking me up at this insane hour. I was actually nervous about riding with Ryan. He talks all the time about what a horrible driver he is. He has me convinced my life will be in jeopardy if he's ever behind the wheel," I joked.

She laughed with me. "You are correct. Ryan is a holy terror behind the wheel." Turning to Ryan, she asked, "Do you even have a permit?"

"Of course," he howled. "Although I did just get it last year."

I was glad for Lisa's presence. Her easy demeanor and light banter with Ryan broke up our comfortable yet awkward silence. She drove us through the city, pointing out things I might like to see. I tried to appear interested, which I actually was, except when I couldn't settle my rapidly beating heart. Distracted by the sights, I looked back and forth from window to window while Ryan kept his eyes fastened on me. As we drove along, I scanned the buildings and scenery—basically taking in what little I could see of London, instead of freaking out, like my insides were.

I responded to Lisa's questions about myself and asked things of her while also trying to control my stammer and shaky leg—a difficult task.

"So—we're going back to my parents for tonight, then tomorrow heading to the island," he informed me.

I felt light headed. "Okay," I answered. I was slightly anxious about staying with his parents. I wondered what Ryan had told them about us. _You need to get it together, Sterling,_ I thought.

We pulled up in front of a modest white home situated off a busy main road. An iron fence surrounded the property and butted up against massive green shrubbery that provided its own form of privacy around the place.

Lisa pulled right into the garage, essentially hiding us and our arrival from unwanted eyes. I stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, reveling in the thought that I was really here. Then I followed behind Ryan, allowing him to carry my bags inside.

The house was very homey and completely dark and quiet. I'd caught a 7:00 a.m. out of L.A., but what with the ten-hour flight and the time difference, it was now after two o'clock in the morning UK time. Lisa said good night and left us for her own bed. I was exhausted but being in Ryan's family home made me feel sort of high. He gave me a quick tour that ended in a guest room.

"This is where you'll sleep tonight." He winked and closed the door behind us. I immediately noticed a change in Ryan. He stood taller and exuded a confidence I'd rarely seen in him. Man, how our roles were reversed! I was edgy. My hands were shaking so badly I held them to my sides so he wouldn't notice.

Detecting a hint of cockiness in his grin, I asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means tomorrow night you're mine. There's no _guest _bedroom on the Isle. Just my bedroom."

"I see," I stammered. Catching the stutter in my own voice, I raised an eyebrow in what was an attempt at _sexy_, but what probably came across as _scared shitless_. Unfortunately, I was. I know he noticed my nervousness because half a second later he wrapped me in a huge hug.

"I can't tell you how good it feels to have you here_ in my home_," he whispered while rubbing small circles on my back.

I allowed myself to relax completely and tightened my arms around his neck. The entire flight I'd played things over and over in my head, stressing and obsessing about what this time together meant. But here in the moment, I knew none of it mattered. Everything just felt so right. I hung onto him, lightly resting my head against his chest. Focusing on the feel of his hand on my lower back, I breathed in his fresh outdoor scent.

Ryan kissed my forehead, holding his lips for a moment, and then effortlessly dropped his arms from my waist. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, I'm good." I looked up at him, thinking about that kiss and how I wanted another.

"Okay then. Get some sleep. I've got big plans for tomorrow."

"Alright," I said finally. I was feeling punchy from a lack of sleep but also bummed we were no longer physically connected. With a goofy smile, he closed the door and left me alone with my thoughts.

A light rapping on the bedroom door woke me up.

"Come in," I said, sitting up in bed.

Lisa stepped through the door. "Hey there, my brother wanted me to check on you. Breakfast is on."

"Oh thanks. What time is it?" I asked stretching my limbs and stepping out of bed.

"It's almost ten."

"Seriously? I'm sorry I slept so late. I feel bad."

"No worries. You're on vacation, remember? There's no schedule here," she said with a reassuring smile.

"Cool."

"Don't forget the bathroom is across the hall if you need it."

"Thanks, I just need a minute," I said, digging through my bag for something to wear. I quickly crossed the hall and jumped into the shower for a quick rinse. I needed to clean up from traveling. After a good soap down, I finger combed my hair and sprayed a little dry shampoo in to restore some volume. I brushed my teeth, smudged on black eyeliner and mascara, then dressed in my regular uniform of skinny "Seven" jeans and a pullover sweatshirt. Once again Drew deserved a serious thank-you for making sure I had enough proper clothes. Who knows what I would have brought if I'd been left to my own devices?

I walked into his kitchen amidst all the noise Ryan's family was making. I was glad they weren't holding breakfast for me but instead were enjoying their food and some lively conversation.

"Kathryn, you made it. Grab a plate and pull up a seat," Ryan's dad called out as I appeared. I slid into an empty chair at the table, making instant eye contact with Ryan, who was literally beaming. I helped myself to some of the huge breakfast that was spread out on the table. There were scrambled eggs, beans, bacon, sausages, tomato slices, and crumpets with Marmite. Ryan asked if I wanted coffee or tea, even though he was drinking a Coke. I went with tea, being in England and all, and added a little milk and honey to it. I was starving, and everything tasted so good. A person could seriously get used to having a big breakfast like this every day.

I didn't know what Ryan had said about me and our relationship, but his parents seemed genuinely happy I was there. It wasn't the first time we'd met, yet they didn't really ask a lot of questions of me or put me on the spot. They just included me in their conversation like I belonged. I told them about my family and how we spent the holidays. His mom was interested in my mom's creative side and confessed she was a painting novice too.

"I've got a bit of a plan. Something I want to show you before we leave on the ferry tonight," Ryan spoke up.

"Oh yeah, what?" I asked.

"It's a surprise, but something I think you'll love," he said, stealing the last sausage.

"Cool," I grinned. His parents exchanged a look, and I caught Ryan's mom giving him a smile. I couldn't help wonder what he was up to and again what he'd told his parents about us.


	2. Chapter 2Chapter 2

Chapter 1

"Blackbird"

The persistent shrill of my alarm jolted me awake - not my favorite way to start the day though I was grateful for its necessity. Sunlight streamed across my room through a slit in the curtains. My cat was still asleep, smashed up against my legs. Reaching out I stroked his fur and he rolled over and exposed his belly for a rub. I gave him a few moments before slowly flexing and stretching my muscles and sliding out of bed. Time to focus my attention towards today's task: finding "Thomas."

I could smell breakfast before I hit the bottom of the stairs. Someone was up. My parents knew I was nervous as hell. Today was so important. The final selections - after almost two thousand candidates - were auditioning for the role of "Thomas." Today I was going to read with them for the first time to help the director Michael Sharp decide who would be cast opposite me. The film is an adaptation of the hit book series about the forbidden romance between a vampire named "Thomas" and the teenage girl "Anna," who falls madly in love with him. When the call came from the director, telling me that I'd been chosen for the part, I nearly shit my pants. Several go-to actresses were up for the role of "Anna"- and I got it. I was only eighteen and, up until then, had yet to be cast as a lead.

I had begun to pull together a rather impressive résumé and had worked with a few major league directors, but my parts all consisted of ensemble or supporting roles. Appearing in nearly every frame of a movie was new for me. Michael, who had seen me in a film the year before he selected me as the lead for his film, recently told me he never seriously considered anyone other than me for the lead in his film. I was blown away by his confession. I hadn't done anything similar to justify being considered for the role. (I work hard at getting roles. I'm constantly told I'm not sexy and glamorous, or cute enough for my age.) I've been a working actress since I was a teen, but I never played a role like "Anna." This character challenged me unlike anything I'd ever done, but I was ready and honestly dying for an opportunity to prove what I could do. Rounding the corner, I turned into the kitchen and spied my dad behind the counter.

"Hey Dad, it smells good in here," I said, reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out the orange juice.

"I'm making you breakfast, kid. Today is going to be a long day. I want to start you off right. Plus, I don't have anywhere to be until later," he said, handing me a plate piled high with bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

I maneuvered around my two dogs, who were waiting patiently for crumbs, and pulled out a barstool. I couldn't help but notice my dad grinning at me. "What?" I said, between bites, gently shoving away one of the begging dogs with my foot.

"I'm just so proud of you, kiddo," he said. "You've been working for so long, and it's about time someone noticed not only how talented you are, but that you're leading lady material. You have something special and it's been a pleasure watching you grow." He beamed.

"Don't worry about today. Remember it's not your responsibility to find the right 'Thomas.' Just be you and it will all work out. By the way, I had to move your car so your mom could get out this morning. I noticed you were on empty and filled your tank again."

"Thanks," I said, raising my glass to my mouth. "I hope you are still proud of me after you watch the film. There's going to be things you don't like. Subject matter I mean." I cocked a grin at him and took a huge gulp of juice.

"I'm no stranger to adult content, Kat," he said, shaking his head a few times, pointing his thumbs back towards himself and giving a goofy little shake.

"Hey, I'm a rock star remember." He said this in a teasing voice before turning serious again. "We already discussed this with you. Mom and I trust your judgment. We've raised you and are confident you'll keep making good choices. You'll do that, right?" He shook a finger at me.

I rolled my eyes at him. He and Mom are awesome. They support me no matter what, never pushing, always trusting, letting me be myself and encouraging me to explore who that is. They're both liberal hippies and frankly a little eccentric. Mom is an artist and my dad a musician, who had a pretty successful band in the mid-1970s. They're both hugely creative and have orchestrated careers out of doing something they love. It's their influence on me and my own passion that continue to push me forward in a career I don't really fit into, but feel at home in. I'm an introvert by nature and uncomfortable having attention directed at me - sort of the opposite of what you'd picture an actor to be.

To be honest, I have no interest in living the typical Hollywood lifestyle. I'm LA-born and raised and have been acting since I was a kid, though I'm not your typical "child star." In fact, I'm sensitive about being called one. I happened to get my first job by accident, but found out I really love everything about acting, no matter how small the role. I really get off on the whole process: memorizing my lines, getting to know my character, and working with the cast and directors to shoot a scene. I'm happiest when I'm shooting a film or at home with my close friends, family, and pets. Actually, I'm pretty boring. Living in the valley with my parents has kept me pretty sheltered by LA's standards.

"Crap! I'm totally going to be late." I jumped off the barstool, rinsed my plate, and shoved it inside the dishwasher. "Thanks, Dad," I called over my shoulder, heading upstairs into the bathroom. I showered quickly and set about trying to look presentable.

Studying my reflection in the mirror, I decided to keep it simple: mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Fortunately, I have good skin and don't need a lot of makeup. I tied back my newly dyed, almost black, wavy, unmanageable hair into a low-maintenance ponytail and dashed across the hall into my room quickly trying to find something to wear; which is no easy task considering my entire closet is on my floor. Stepping over a pile I reached for my favorite jeans and inspected them with the old sniff test. Unable to detect more than a day's worth of wear and tear, they passed. I threw them on, cuffing at the ankle, and opened my dresser drawer. I have about a million T-shirts. I love vintage concert shirts, logos, and vacation tees, but I seem to end up wearing a basic white that's usually my dad's. I grabbed one, white of course, and threw it on, knotting the bottom waist corner. Foregoing socks, I stepped into my pair of black Converse over by the door. Thinking I really should dress up a little, I grabbed my trusty leather coat off the bedpost, nearly tripping over a wayward shoe. I stumbled to my desk, sliding on my black rubber-band bracelets, and grabbed my cigarettes, iPod and ID. Everything was where I left it, except my keys.

"Argh! I don't have time for this." I'd frantically started moving things around to try to find them when I remembered Dad had put gas in my car. "Dad, Dad!" I hollered, running down the hall. "I need my keys."

He met me by the front door handing them off. "What you really need is to get it together, kid," he said with a laugh. "You're going to be leaving for Vancouver soon - alone!" he added. "Mom and I won't be there this time to take care of you. I worry about you." Although he was smiling, the concern in his eyes was evident.

"I know. I can handle taking care of myself. Don't worry, I got this!" I shot back, immediately feeling bad and softening my tone. He shook his head in surrender. I stepped closer to him and gave him a one-arm quick hug. "Love you," I said.

"Love you too kid," he said, squeezing me a little harder.

I made my way out to my car. (I freaking love my car. It's a vintage 1964 midnight blue Volkswagen Bug.) I jumped in and prayed it would start without any trouble. After a couple of tries, the engine kicked over, filling the inside with music from one of my favorites, The Stones.

I didn't have far to go. (It's only a few miles from my house to Michael's place in the Hollywood Hills) For some crazy reason, he thought it would be more comfortable and less stressful working from his home rather than the studio. I was thinking that no matter where we worked, finding "Thomas" would be stressful and take a long time. I silently willed myself to breathe deeply and to "stay present" and in the Now. This was a very important day, with the focus on finding the right guy to play "Thomas," the male lead in The Journey. "Thomas" was "Anna's" love interest, so the chemistry between us (the actors) had to jump out from the screen, or the movie would flop. Michael had thrown around a few names of actors he was interested in and had narrowed down the list for the lead role.

Today I was meeting the top potentials and doing character reads with each one. A couple guys Michael had mentioned were established leading male actors whereas I'd only done small indie films. I didn't necessarily feel starstruck, but I wondered if I'd make a good impression. I felt anxious and nervous about this process, as well as curious to see where it would go. I found this opportunity to play "Anna" and work with Michael both exciting and overwhelming. Last year, my agent, Hannah Reed, had encouraged me to read for the role.

This movie has a large ensemble cast, and I thought I might be lucky to get one of those parts. When I was offered the lead, I booked it immediately and threw myself in every day since, reading and rehearsing. I thought the storyline was a little far-fetched and somewhat dark in concept, but at the same time layered with a love story that dares the characters to make life-altering choices. I loved reading the books and couldn't wait to bring them to life. So far I hadn't had a chance to interact with anyone other than Michael. He and I had spent the last few days discussing my character and looking at how each scene could work. I was not used to so much creative direction and attention, but it showed how important this role was and his confidence in me. I felt so alive and completely enmeshed in the story. Several facets of "Anna's" personality intersected with my own though I also recognized points of divergence. I'd never had a role where I was given any creative latitude. This project felt so special to me.

Crap, my phone. Leaving the car running, I dashed back into my room grabbing my cell off the floor. Dad was right; I was in serious need of better organizational skills. Back in the driver's seat, I plugged my phone into my charger and noticed several unread texts. Man, someone was blowing me up before ten o'clock in the morning. One freaking guess who that is: Lexi! She either wanted to brag or cry about last night's exploits. Lexi loves attention and having a good time. Although we're best friends, we couldn't be more different Originally, Lexi seemed to be a perfect "Anna" and, in fact, auditioned for the role. She is tall, dynamic, beautiful, and sexy with her long auburn hair and hazel eyes. We've never auditioned for the same role before, and I was a little worried about how she would take the news that I'd be playing the lead, but she surprised me by being really supportive. She ended up getting a small part playing a vampire named "Rachel." We're both excited to be working and hanging out in Vancouver together.

I sent her a quick text as I pulled out of the driveway, telling her I would call her after the auditions. Then I tried calling my boyfriend, Chris. It would be pretty rare for Chris to be up this early. He's a night owl and most likely stayed up late playing video games and drinking with his guy friends. We've been together for a little over two years now. We met through Lexi when I was fifteen and he was eighteen. We hung out a bit and became good friends, but didn't start dating until a year or so later after reconnecting at a barbecue his parents threw, which I attended with my dad. Chris had grown up, and I was instantly attracted to his boyish features and pouty lips, which are enhanced by his olive skin, long brown wavy hair, and brown eyes. Even though we didn't have a lot of things in common, I was happy to be with him.

I sent the last text as I pulled out of my driveway to Andrew, Drew, or just "D" as I call him. He's my best friend, best gay friend that is, all awkward, chubby, six foot three of him. We've been tight since we were in diapers. Drew has a wicked sense of humor. He's my teddy bear and my rock. He's very protective of me, as I am of him. Nothing could ever come between us. He knows everything about me because I tell him everything. He's opinionated, but never judges - and has a wicked sense of humor. I knew he definitely wasn't up yet, but would touch base at some point. He and I are in a constant state of conversation all day, every day.

"Wish me luck!" I typed.

Surprisingly, my phone vibrated immediately from my lap. I reached for it and quickly read the message. "You don't need it. Have fun playing kissy kissy. I'm so jealous. Send pics of the dreamboats." I couldn't contain my laughter and started completely cracking up.

"LOL, I doubt there will be any kissy, kissy." Still laughing I tucked my cell between my legs and headed for Michael's. Time to mentally prepare myself to be "Anna."

Chapter 2

"Dangerous Beauty"

It had been a rough and awkward two days, and I felt drained. Yesterday, I was so excited to read with actors who had the potential of filling the male lead in The Journey.

At first it was exhilarating to bounce the creative energy back and forth and take in different perspectives an outsider could bring to the role. But as the day wore on, the actors seemed so completely into themselves, so empty, shallow, and thoughtless. Each one was not only good-looking but also acutely aware of it. I was unimpressed by the lack of creative energy and depth these guys brought to the table. Today had so far been more of the same, and I couldn't handle another piss-poor, tired-ass audition. I was giving my all each and every time and getting nowhere. Truly, I was starting to feel like a freak.

I was resting my head on the kitchen table uncontrollably rattling my leg underneath when the director came in. "This isn't working," I complained in a tired and worn-out voice. "I'm beat and my head hurts. I've been running the same lines over and over for two days now and none of these guys seem to be right. They don't even look at me, Michael. I know it's acting, but how am I supposed to even fake it here?"

"Kathryn, calm down. Things will be fine. We've got one more audition today and the casting director is still searching for potentials." Michael shook his head. "And just so you know, I'm not worried. Take a break. You need it."

Michael has a very soothing yet authoritative presence. He's known to joke around and keep a relaxed vibe on set. That said, it's obvious how talented and in control he is of his projects. His reputation is stellar, and I haven't met anyone who had a negative thing to say about him. I sighed dramatically got up and headed out the back door to regroup.

Michael's house is unbelievable. He lives in the Hollywood Hills with amazing views of downtown LA. His house sits back over lush manicured grounds. I stood out there enjoying the view. The gardens were full of vibrant flowers and shrubs. Red bougainvillea and lilacs cascaded over a covered patio area. The setting sun colored the horizon purple as the city lights came into focus and shimmered off one another. Soon they would light up the skyline. Michael's view reminded me of how much I loved this city. I reached inside my jacket pocket, with the intention of grabbing my cigarettes, but instead found the slightly smashed remains of a joint. What a nice surprise. I rolled it in my palm for a minute, considering whether or not smoking weed at an audition was unprofessional. Why not? At this point I have more than earned it. I tugged and straightened the end, pulling the paper wrap tighter around its base. I flicked my lighter a few times trying to make contact with the paper. It lit and I sat back, inhaled deeply, and closed my eyes.

Maybe it's me that's keeping this from happening. Am I over-thinking it or pushing too hard? Michael said it's not uncommon for the process to work this way, but I've never experienced this much pressure to connect with someone. Holy Hell, I'm an actor and should be able to fake it, but there is absolutely no freaking chemistry with any of these guys and it's a love story for shit's sake! After a moment of reflection, I scrolled through my phone and saw Lexi had texted me back.

I quickly replied, "What's up?"

She answered immediately. "Last night I was at Les Deux and you'll never guess who I ran into."

Too tired to even guess, I typed, "I give up." "My ex-boyfriend, Pete. He actually tried to pick me up. Can U believe?"

"No fucking way. Did you go home with him?"

"Hell no! He's an ass."

"Agreed!" I had to cut her off, or we'd be talking forever and I needed her encouragement to make it through tonight. So I texted, "I'm freaking out!"

"Of course you are, but why?"

"Every guy auditioning for 'Thomas' is a douche bag."

"Aren't all male actors? You're probably over-reacting. Hang in there."

"Yeah, you're right. "I gotta go."

"K," she typed.

I tried calling Chris again and was bummed to get his voice mail. I needed to hear his voice. I left him another message to let him know I should be done soon and hoped to see him tonight. After taking another hit, I was starting to relax and also feeling bad about complaining to Michael. I definitely had nothing to complain about. Hearing footsteps from behind, I blew out a plume of smoke. There was no time to hide the joint from Michael.

"Kat, come on, the last guy for today is here. Hey, put that thing out. You're just a kid," he said.

Feeling a little scolded, I stubbed it out and begrudgingly walked back into the house, ready to go one more time. I flopped onto Michael's couch, mentally prepping to channel "Anna" again.

I heard the door open and Michael exchanging words with the last audition for today. I looked up as he entered the room and was a little surprised at what I saw. He was lean, shuffled when he walked, and possibly tall, but I couldn't tell because he wasn't standing up straight. Also, something was seriously up with his hair. He had a head full of wavy, light brown hair that stuck out in all directions partially covering his face. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed and needed a shower. Oh, and his clothes - well, they could use some help. Not that I'm a great judge of style. Hell, he looked like me. He was wearing black jeans that seemed like they had seen better days and a wrinkled, gray T-shirt partially hidden by a well-worn leather jacket. To complete this dude's outfit: a pair of Romeos, the kind my dad would wear. Not a typical leading-man look at all.

Feeling self-conscious lounging on the couch, I quickly sat up and smoothed out my hair, tucking a piece behind my ear. Michael led the boy over to me for introductions.

"Kathryn, this is Ryan Preston. Ryan, Kathryn Sterling." I could tell he was totally nervous. I reached out to shake his hand, and he leaned down and grasped mine casually, but without making eye contact.

"Hey," he said, looking at the ground. His hand was a little sweaty and clammy.

"Call me Kat," I told him.

I was instantly uncomfortable. Ryan dropped my hand first. We both walked over to the table and sat down. Michael passed out water bottles, and I grabbed my script. Ryan pulled his copy from his backpack and immediately dropped it on the floor. I reached down and grabbed it for him, pushing it back across the table. I couldn't help but notice how crumpled up and covered in red pen his copy was. It looked as if he'd made several notes in the margins. He thanked me casually, running his hand through his hair and allowing me a clear look at his face. I liked what I saw. (He has the most beautiful eyes. They are a pale blue topaz that stands out against his fair skin.)

"Um, Thanks," he murmured shyly grinning at me. His face was friendly and his eyes lit up crinkling at their corners when he smiled. Ryan turned to Michael. "Hey do you mind if I use the washroom before we start?"

"Sure, down the hall on the right," Michael directed without looking up from his notes.

"Cool, back in a sec," Ryan said in a casual way as he walked down the adjoining hallway.

My head snapped to attention and my eyes darted straight to Michael the minute I heard Ryan speak a full sentence. I realized he had a British accent. Pleasantly surprised but a little confused, I glanced over questioningly to Michael. I didn't want Ryan to hear me.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat, silently willing him to look at me, but he was too engrossed in his notes to return my cue. Now isn't the time to question Michael's choice. I'm confused, but very interested.

Ryan returned a few minutes later and took a seat across from me. Michael immediately began discussing the script and the direction he was looking to take with the lead character of "Thomas." What should have been a quick explanation turned into a full-fledged discussion, with Ryan not only asking Michael questions but offering up thoughtful ideas. He came at the character from a completely different angle and perspective that made "Thomas" all the more complex and, in fact, brought things to our attention that Michael and I hadn't even discussed. He was interesting, smart, and confident but not cocky. Intrigued, I quickly joined into the discussion, Ryan's accent slowly growing on me. He sounded different than I imagined "Thomas" would sound: kind of sexy.

After nearly an hour had passed, Michael suggested we move things along.

"Okay, you two, let's run through a few scenes," Michael said, as he set up the video camera.

Ryan began to read and I came in on my cue. Our timing was together and everything felt natural. We instantly clicked. The cold reading could not have gone smoother, except that Ryan kept forgetting his lines. I tried to hide my amusement. He came into the audition over-prepared in knowing his character, but couldn't remember his lines. He covered it fairly well, ad-libbing and basically playing to me. I was enjoying it.

Then, just when I was really starting to dig the English accent, Michael asked Ryan if he could speak with an American one. Ryan said he could and ran the next few scenes speaking as directed. Michael couldn't hide his excitement. He jumped to get started on some of the changes we'd been discussing and had Ryan continue speaking without the British accent. In our earlier discussion, I had agreed with Ryan about where the scene needed to go and was excited that Michael agreed to try his suggestions. We immediately adapted, but I secretly loved the accent and thought it worked. I was beginning to feel like I could work with this guy. He was smart and truly seemed to understand "Thomas." Ryan brought something to the character that seemed so vulnerable, so unexpected and needed.

"Let's take five before we go again. Kat, do you need a break?" Michael smiled over at me.

"Yeah," I murmured, grabbing my cigarettes and phone.

I made my way past them and sent a quick text to Chris before reading through the several that Drew had sent to me throughout the day. I messaged him back that I was freaking out. I waited a few minutes for a reply, getting more frustrated with Chris's lack of response. I was about to start ripping at my nails when the sound of guitar strumming broke into the quiet. Not just guitar, but good guitar. I stubbed out my cigarette and made my way back inside, stopping short of entering the room when I heard his voice. Not only was this guy playing guitar beautifully, but his voice was so captivating. I couldn't recognize what he was singing, but it was intoxicating. His voice absolutely drew me in with its depth. So many layers: deep, rich, and warm. I gave up talking to either one of my boys and followed the music inside. I silently took a place across from Ryan and unintentionally made eye contact. The color rose in his cheeks and he immediately stopped playing. Michael appeared in the doorway.

"That was beautiful. What's it from?"

"Just something I've been working on," Ryan mumbled before setting down the guitar.

"You're very talented, son," Michael said, "I think maybe - we might have a good time working together." He scratched his head.

Ryan looked sheepishly back from Michael to me. "Yeah, no man that was awesome. You're breakin' my heart over here," I teased.

His face reddened again. It would appear he was a humble, maybe even shy actor. Not anything like what I'd expected. Michael abruptly clapped his hands together and jumped off the arm of his sofa. "Okay, let's get serious, people. Time's getting away from us. We need to pick up where we left off."

We ran through a few different scenes again. Initially Michael gave us a little instruction, and then asked us to try the last few lines from a scene again with some of the earlier changes. We began but before I finished the last words in my sentence, Ryan looked up into my eyes. I suddenly felt flushed. I'm not sure if it was the pot or what, but I was definitely reacting. I willed myself to stay calm and not start sweating.

"I want to go over that last bit one more time and this time follow through with the kiss," Michael said, picking up the video camera.

Ryan and I looked at one another. You could feel the change in the room. It was charged, serious, and intense. I swallowed back the lump in my throat suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "Is that okay with you?" Ryan shyly asked me.

"Of course." I assumed we would get to this. "You know, g-got to show him how it's done," I stammered, trying to break the tension by joking around.

For some reason, I didn't want to tell him that I had already done this with the other potentials. Michael carried the camera, leading the way down the hall into his spare room. We followed close behind. The scene takes place on a bed and we'd been using that room all day. I slipped off my shoes and climbed up towards the headboard. Ryan sat on the end of the bed, awkwardly creating more distance than necessary. I scooted towards him and crossed my legs one over another, pretzel style. He followed my cue and turned to face me. I began the lines leading into our character's kissing. Instinctively, Ryan leaned forward taking my hand and slowly rubbing down the inside length of my thumb. I hesitated, my breath hitching at his touch, before finishing my last sentence. On cue, he leaned in and ever so slightly paused before kissing me. It was a slow, controlled, sensitive kiss, respectful and yet so intense. Boom! There was no denying the chemistry was there. I had to remind myself to act and not get lost in the moment. Who the hell was this guy! Ryan pulled back from kissing me and let go of my hand. I just sat there looking at him, stunned. He smiled sheepishly at me. Two things happened next. I noticed my slightly ajar mouth and ragged breathing. Composing myself, I quickly straightened up. We dropped our eyes from each other's gaze and turned at the same time to look at Michael. He just sat there with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen.

"Well kids, that's all I need for today. Ryan, you were great and it was a pleasure to meet you," Michael said stepping in front of the camera and extending his hand.

Ryan hopped off the bed and shook Michael's hand. Is he kidding? That's it? I couldn't believe we were done. I had spent the last two days kissing toads over and over, and now the one guy who actually understood the role was leaving. Maybe Michael didn't see what I did. Maybe Ryan's not what he wants. I thought he was the obvious choice. Ryan started to get up from the bed and leave. I rose to stand and clumsily stumbled over my tucked-up foot. I wasn't close to falling, but Ryan quickly grabbed my arm to steady me. His contact with my skin made me shudder again.

"Be careful," he commanded in a low voice.

"I am. I will," I shot out in what sounded like a stutter. What the hell was going on? I don't react like this to anyone. I'm a professional! I was so fucking flustered and confused. He dropped my arm and pulled his phone from his back pocket.

"Mr. Sharp, are we about done here? I need to message my ride," Ryan said, while quickly texting.

Michael looked up from watching our video playback and shook his head. "That's funny: 'Mr. Sharp'! Yeah we're done." Ryan had almost left the bedroom when Michael called out to him again. "Oh hey, Ryan, one last thing. I do need to snap a picture of you with your shirt off," Michael said, turning off the recorder.

"Really?" Ryan screwed his face into a grimace. "Cause if that is a factor in casting me you should probably let me down now."

"No worries man. I'll just take a peek and keep it on file."

"Look, I don't have a six-pack or anything and I'm really not comfortable taking my shirt off," he said, trying to sound assertive but really sort of whining. He seriously looked so vulnerable. The confidence he displayed earlier was instantly replaced with insecurity. Without even thinking I came to his rescue.

"Michael, seriously! I never took my shirt off for the audition," I said.

"That's because at the time you were seventeen and I didn't think it necessary. Now that you're eighteen, if you are that interested in keeping things even, then by all means take it off," Michael replied absentmindedly, basically ignoring my point.

"Agreed!" Ryan chimed in. "In fact, I'll definitely do it if you will." The now-confident Ryan smirked back from underneath his bangs. Grinning, I tried to look unfazed but I could feel my cheeks blazing. I started cracking my knuckles.

"You know what? I like a guy with conviction. Ryan, I've got your head shot. We're good," Michael boomed and exited the room.

"It was nice to meet you Kat," Ryan called out to me. He awkwardly moved the hair from his eyes and trailed after Michael.

"Yeah man . . . you too." I felt my cell buzz and grabbed it from my pocket. Chris - finally. He texted that he'd be home if I came by. I quickly replied that I was on my way and followed after them. I stood with Michael on the porch watching Ryan get into a car and leave.

"So what did you think of Ryan?" Michael asked.

"He's the one. He has the right amount of - well everything. I played off him without really trying. Also, I really liked his energy. He wasn't overdone but he was into it and brought something completely different. I think he's perfect for 'Thomas."

"Yeah, I noticed." Michael paused before continuing. "He wasn't performing. He was responding to you. In fact, you seemed to be playing off him a little too well. Remember, he's older than you. I don't want any drama on this project."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I whined, shifting my weight onto one hip. "I have no interest in anything other than filling this role and making a great picture." My voice went up a few levels. "I would never get involved with a cast mate. Plus, I have like . . . a boyfriend!" I added, sounding like a teenager.

"Uh huh! I'll remember you telling me this." I cocked an eyebrow and turned my head directly to him, dropping the whine in order to sound serious. "Does this mean he's getting the part?"

"From what I just saw, I'd say that's an affirmative, but, you never know what the big bosses will have to say," he said, handing over my bag and script. "Now go home and get some rest and relaxation. You've earned it. And by relaxation, I don't mean weed. I'll catch up with you in a few days."

I walked outside to my car and quickly texted Drew. "OMG, I've had a seriously interesting day!"

"By interesting do you mean good?" he quickly sent back. I responded as fast as I could. "By Interesting I mean we NEED to talk later. I'm on my way to Chris's house now."

"Girl, DON'T hold out on me!"

"LOL! I'll call you tonight." I pressed the Send Button.


End file.
